We just returned from the plastic surgeon's, and it looks as though we did it none too soon, since I'm seeing a large amount of snow falling outside my window. The doctor always wants us to come in the next day so that the nurses can change the dressing and look at the incisions to make sure things are looking alright. It is also my first glimpse of what was done since it has all been under bandages since the surgery.
I am so happy to report that everything is looking very good. The drains, which are barely draining, are due to come out on Friday. The doctor wants them to stay in because they create suction under the skin which help the new skin flaps adhere to their new place. (Sorry, is that too much information? I really can't tell any more.) Even with all the stitches, I am amazed at the difference it makes. There is something about having her forehead look complete uniform that completely changes how ones eyes visually read her face. It seems like such a small thing, but I think it is going to make a major difference in how she is perceived. I'm glad the three month expander trauma was worth it. The hair situation? Hmmm, let's not talk about that at the moment. I know we will need to make another trip out to our new favorite surgical hair stylist after everything heals a bit. I think the help that her hair will need is every more dire than last time.
We waited a while in the waiting room before H. could be seen. I wasn't surprised because the day after the doctor's surgery days can be a little crazy. TM, however, was not amused and you will be interested to know that "forever" is exactly one hour and ten minutes. While we were waiting another family came in. Two Caucasian parents and one small Asian toddler. Now, the odds seem pretty high that this child was adopted. I was sitting their with two children whose ethnicity did not match my own and I thought perhaps we could have a conversation. I smiled and looked pleasant and approachable. (At least I think I did, M. and I have conversations about how some people perceive both of us as scary. I don't quite get it.. I don't feel scary.) I even tried to open up the conversation by commenting on the cute pigtails on the little girl. (I love pigtails.) That comment was not met with chattiness and I got the impression that they were doing their best to pretend we weren't sharing a room together. I could have plunged in and asked nosy questions (ie How long have you been home?), but was getting definite vibes that it wasn't welcome. Maybe they were shy. Maybe they were preoccupied with the upcoming visit with the plastic surgeon. Maybe I just should have plunged ahead and jabbered at them. I'm not exactly an extrovert, but am quite capable of chatting with people I don't know. But I didn't. I talked to my children and tried not to look as though I was ignoring the other family, but giving them space. (Though I'm not sure exactly how one does that.)
Here's my question to other adoptive parents. Do you initiate conversations with other obviously adoptive families? Do you mind it when others do? Would you have made more of an effort towards conversation? I find this tricky ground and really wish there was some definitive set of rules.